


hot and bothered

by smoothniallsmooth



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Smut, harrys 14, im shit at tagging, just read it, louis' 17, then hes 15, then hes 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:32:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1377418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoothniallsmooth/pseuds/smoothniallsmooth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one where louis' the lead in the school musical, and harry's just the costume boy. they fuck behind a curtain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hot and bothered

**Author's Note:**

> i cant tag for shit -_____-

Harry isn't much, at least in the eyes of his peers. He's tall and lanky, has dull brown curly hair, pasty skin, and a baby face. His only talent is clothes, as strange as that sounds describing the character of a straight fifteen year-old boy.

Well, there is one thing, or one person, that makes him question that.

Louis Tomlinson.

Louis Tomlinson is a senior, loved by many for his outgoing personality and his crystal blue eyes, caramel brown hair that hangs slightly in his face.

Harry is hopeless, though. Louis is popular, Louis is eighteen, Louis is Louis. Sure, they talk sometimes. Harry might even consider them friends if Louis ever talked to him outside of the school musical.

The musical is the definition of life for the two boys. Louis had landed the lead as Peter Pan while Harry spends most, if not all, of rehearsals in the costume room slaving over the cast's attire and various other hand-cramping projects. 

Harry gets along with everyone, but he's awkward. Not shy, awkward. There is a difference.

He tries not to talk much, just enough to where he doesn't make a fool out of himself or say something embarrassing.

But, Louis, Louis is different. He can be himself around him, because both of them slip up and say something stupid sometimes. It's easy to laugh it all off. 

Like when Harry was walking into the school early for rehearsal and Louis was behind him and said he had a cute butt, which had made Harry blush and hide a smile. Louis and the other boys in play are always sharing amorous comments like that. It had made Harry feel included in the theatre department and not like the outsider freshman he is.

And that time Harry was on his knees measuring Louis' waist band, and Louis said something about perfect dick sucking height. That ended a bit differently, Harry excused himself to go to the bathroom as soon as he was done so he could wait out his semi.

Only because he's a growing teenage boy going through hormones and puberty. 

So it's safe to say that when Louis strolls into the costume room, happy and chipper and unfairly gorgeous as always, and wraps his arms around Harry's waist from behind, the boy is allowed to get a little jittery. 

"Niall told me you were in a pissy mood," he murmurs, pulling back all too quickly. Harry's shoulders slump at the cold feeling.

"Well, when all anyone does is sit there and watch me do everything by myself, it gets a little annoying," Harry replies, moving over to the counters to fold the costumes he has in hand.

"Well, darling, you never ask for help," Louis says, taking a portion of the clothes from Harry's clammy hands.

"Because no one knows how to do anything right," Harry grumbles, watching Louis from the corner of his eye.

He watches the way his fingers fumble with the corners of the clothes, his mouth set in a thin line of concentration. And Harry wants to scold him for folding sloppily, but all he can think about is how much he wants to kiss those thin, pink lips.

Louis accidentally loses his grip on the corners and the top he holds falls to the floor, knocking the rest of the stack along with it when he tries fruitlessly to catch it. 

Harry glares at him, but in a playful way. Mostly.

"You know, why don't you just...sit over there," he suggests, his lips curling into a small smile.

"That's probably best," Louis agrees, perching on one of the black stools while Harry picks up the clothes. He turns back to his work, trying desperately to ignore Louis' burning stare. 

"So what made you want to be costume manager?" Louis asks, trying to spark up a conversation.

"Uh, I don't know," Harry mumbles. "I guess I just liked the idea of making costumes."

"What made you want to be in plays and stuff?" the younger boy questions in return, going over to the stage makeup to find face paint.

He digs through the drawers, his hands getting chalky from the hoards of makeup as he awaits Louis' answer. He spins around to see Louis surprisingly close and jumps back, startled.

"I just like acting, and I know I'm good at it. If that doesn't sound conceited," he says, shrugging. 

"No, you are good. Peter Pan was the perfect part for you," Harry responds. He swallows dryly, turning his head and stepping away from Louis before he can let himself kiss him.

Harry tries to make himself busy, sloppily sliding things around and straightening up anything he saw that's slightly out of place. 

"Look at you, all hot and bothered," Louis chuckles. Harry's cheeks flame red and he fumbles with the fabric swatches he's wielding, nearly dropping them as his mind flashes to the year before. 

(Last year) 

His older sister Gemma is hosting a party after prom, and Harry being the loner he is has nowhere to go to busy himself, and he's unfortunately stuck at home cursed with spending his night watching drunk seniors make out on his couch.

Louis is flat out wasted, prancing around the house singing at the top of his lungs. At one point he stumbles into Harry's room where the fourteen year-old has the soundtrack to Mary Poppins on full blast to drown out the loud pop music and drunken shouting emitting from downstairs.

Louis tells him he loves Mary Poppins and that he thinks Harry's curls are cute. Harry blushes bright red, because Louis is so much older than him and he's a boy. He knew Louis before this, he's always hanging around at his house with Gemma. Louis then makes the glorious decision to perch on the bed and start belting out the lyrics to the song that's currently playing. Harry quietly joins with a tiny smile threatening the corners of his lips, trying to focus on anything but the gorgeous boy that is drunk and in his bedroom with flushed skin and his crackly high pitched voice and his cute little ankles peeking out from underneath his rolled up jeans.

Louis suddenly crawls sloppily to the top of the bed, his arm brushing Harry's ever so slightly and so close he could feel and smell the booze on his breath. Harry swallows, wanting to scoot away but feeling cornered and frozen in his place. Louis' breath is fanning his neck and he has stopped singing.

"You have a really nice voice," Louis mutters, his eyes unfocused and a goofy smile on his face.

"Thanks," Harry says, blushing furiously. Louis is so close to him and he doesn't know what to do. "You do, too."

"You have really full lips," Louis mumbles, reaching a hand up and running his thumb over Harry's bottom lip as if to emphasize his point. Or maybe just to feel them. Harry's mouth unconsciously falls open, completely shocked and dumbfounded.

"T-thanks," he stutters stupidly.

"I bet you're a really good kisser," Louis states, his eyes locked on Harry's lips before he leans forward, nose brushing the younger boy's and breath fanning his lips. His mouth finds Harry's, lips pressing firmly onto his with drunken determination. 

Harry gasps into his mouth, his hands awkwardly fumbling at his sides. He doesn't know what to do with them, he doesn't know what to do period. He's only ever kissed one girl, and it was never more than a simple peck. Nothing like this, nothing this...this hot. Louis has his hands enveloping Harry's curls, his lips sliding feverishly against the younger boy's.

Harry is still frozen. Louis' tongue is suddenly in his mouth and it's so wet and warm and slippery and he can taste the beer on his lips and it's absolutely almost perfect. Almost, because Harry is as still as a statue and his mind is so clouded with a thick film of pure want that he can't even move his own lips.

Louis is trying to get Harry to participate in the kiss, pushing the frozen boy onto his back and crawling on top of him.

Harry finally snaps to his senses, realizing that he has a seventeen year-old boy that he's finding himself strangely attracted to on top of him and he probably seems stupid and inexperienced. He timidly begins to move his lips against Louis', hoping the boy was drunk enough not to realize whether or not he was doing it right, because Harry doesn't know.

Harry pushes his tongue against Louis', licking into his mouth with some sort of lust-driven confidence. Louis moans low in his throat, deep and drawn out and Harry can feel the vibrations of his tongue /in his mouth/. 

Louis pushes their hips together, grinding down into Harry's crotch sloppily. The younger boy gasps, a low whimper emitting from his throat. He's never felt anything like that before, even when he touched himself. 

The older boy's hips drop up and down in a painfully slow and steady rhythm. Harry can barely breathe and he doesn't even know what he's doing. Louis pulls back from the boy's lips to press light, wet kisses down his jaw before settling on a tender spot in the crook of his neck. His hips still move in a relentless rhythm, Harry's cock fully hardened and straining against his jeans as the intoxicating assault of friction continues. 

Harry moans, his heart pounding against his chest. Here he is, dry humping and snogging a boy nearly four years older than him to some broadway Mary Poppins song that he can't hear in his clouded ears, and he isn't even sure if Louis would remember this in the morning. He isn't complaining. 

He drags his hands away from his sides and timidly places them on Louis' bum, his touch light at first until he's sure Louis doesn't mind. He presses harder, forcing the older boy's hips onto his and bucking his own up gently from the mattress. 

"Fuck," Harry breathes when their clothed cocks collide with equal force, sucking his own bottom lip into his mouth. 

"I was right," Louis pants, his face now hovering over Harry's and his hips grinding down on the younger boy's in figure eight motions. "About your kissing." 

Harry flushes, a tiny whimper crawling up his throat and escaping his lips. 

"Look at you, all hot and bothered," Louis coos, thrusting his clothed cock into Harry's with an increased note of finality. 

Harry lets out a guttural moan, his palms kneeding into Louis' bum as the older boy repeats the same action over and over. Harry feels dizzy, his breath coming out in needy pants and his stomach tingling.

"God, you're so hard for me. Getting off just like this, with your trousers on," Louis grunts into Harry's ear, making him shudder. 

"Fuck," Harry gasps, his head spinning and a heated sensation settling deep in his stomach.

"Fuckfuckfuck, I-I'm gonna-" he stammers, Louis thrusting hard and biting his lip, circling his hips in figure eight motions after each relentless thrust. Harry's whole body shakes as he comes in his pants, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head.

He's had orgasms before, but only by his own hand. He could never make himself come as hard as Louis just did. Louis hips twitch and stutter, panting into Harry's ear as he moans, his cock pulsing as he himself comes in his boxers.

"Oh my god," Harry pants, dragging his hand up to Louis' matted fringe.

Louis chuckles, pulling back to look Harry in the eyes.

"Damn," the older boy whispers, pressing his alcohol tinted lips to Harry's for one brief second before he jumps off the bed.

"Have to get cleaned up now. Nice talking to ya, Curly."

He waves and prances out of the room, shutting the door gently behind him and leaving a dazed, fucked out fourteen-year old boy lying on his bed with sticky come-filled pants.

*

Harry flinches when he snaps out of his flashback, feeling Louis on him before he sees him. He's only an inch from his face with his body pressed against Harry's, his hands on either side of the counter with Harry trapped between his legs.

He doesn't even know when this happened, he was preoccupied reliving the night in his memory and giving himself a semi from the thoughts and mental images. 

"Whatcha thinking about, Curly?" Louis asks, tilting his head to the side and licking his lips. His icy blue eyes stare into Harry's jade irises, shining with blatant lust. 

"You," Harry grunts, not bothering to lie in his answer.

"What about me? About the time I made you come in your trousers?" Louis asks, his voice dropping and words escaping so slow they seem to drag on his lips. 

Harry nods, blushing furiously. In an act if sudden boldness, he lazily slings his arms around the senior's neck, pulling him close enough so he could feel his hot breath fanning his lips.

"Maybe we could relive that, now that you're not drunk off your ass," he whispers, biting his lip tentatively. 

"Yeah, except this time we don't have to keep our trousers on," Louis mumbles, cocking his head to the side and making Harry's throat go dry. Harry nods mutely.

"Shut the door and I'll get the stand up curtain," he mutters after a moment of brief consideration. Getting off in school while Louis is supposed to be in rehearsal, okay. 

Louis breaks away from Harry, hastily shutting the door and hearing the automatic lock click before pulling the shade over the window.

Harry grabs the curtain stand and unfolds it, spreading it out and shuffling behind it to lay down long pieces of white fabric.

He considers taking his clothes off, but decides to let Louis do the honors.

Louis moves the curtain to get into the little back space and looks over Harry in almost an intimidating manner, before taking a step closer and snaking his arms around the green-eyed boy's waist.

"So," Louis whispers, eyeing the length of Harry's body. "How do you want to do this?"

Harry bites his lip.

"Um, I don't know," Harry answers. He's still inexperienced. "Whatever you want."

Louis smirks, his hands roaming to rest on Harry's hips and forcing both of theirs together. He feels the outline of Harry's semi pressing into his thigh, biting back a filthy groan. 

"Alright, this will be fun. Even funner than the last time," he says, his voice low and filled with lust.

"Funner isn't a word," Harry points out breathlessly, his semi growing. 

"Mm, ask me if I give a fuck," Louis mumbles, grinding against Harry in circular movements so slow and small they're almost nonexistent. 

"Do you give a fuck?" Harry asks, smirking at Louis.

Louis glares at him, applying more pressure as he begins to move his hips in figure eight movements against Harry's, making the younger boy's eyes flutter shut, a tiny noise passing his lips. 

"Lay on the floor," Louis orders, pulling away and releasing the boy from his hold. 

Harry does as he's told, flattening himself on the sheet he's laid on the ground. He watches Louis as he tugs off his t-shirt, climbing on top of Harry so that he hovers over the top of the younger boy.

"Have you ever done anything before, curly?" Louis asks, pulling on the bottom of Harry's shirt.

Harry shakes his head. The closest he's ever come to sex was with Louis at the party, and the time last month that the sophomore slut gave him a shitty blowjob in the janitor's closet.

"A few things, but never all the way." Harry mutters, looking down at Louis' bare chest with the faintest blush threatening to break through his skin. 

"Do you want to? Or just something else?" Louis asks, sudden concern in his voice.

"I want to," Harry confirms, nodding his head twice.

"Okay, ah, I'm gonna need some sort of lube especially if it's your first time," Louis says, his eyes scanning what little of the room he can see behind the curtain.

They both stare at each other for a second before Harry spoke up.

"All we have is hair gel."

Louis laughs and shakes his head.

"Might be a bit uncomfortable for you," he says, giving Harry a questioning look. "You could come over sometime and we can do it th-"

"No, I want to do it now." Harry cuts him off. "Just use spit or something."

Louis raises an eyebrow. "That's going to hurt like a bitch, you know," he points out.

"I don't care," Harry mutters, running his hands down Louis' back.

Louis looks skeptical, but lifts three fingers and wiggles them in front of Harry's slightly parted lips. 

Harry opens his mouth eagerly, the older boy pushing his fingers past the barrier of his lips. Harry sucks on the three digits, swirling his tongue around to coat them generously. After a few moments, Louis pulls them out, a long string of saliva stretching between his fingertips and Harry's lips. He motions for Harry to remove his pants.

Louis moves out of the way a bit so Harry could wiggle out of his tight jeans, pulling his boxers down in the process. Harry tosses them aside, settling back down on his back.

Louis props himself up on one arm, other gently stroking down Harry's smooth chest until is comes it meet the tip of his cock, red and leaking. Harry's mouth falls open like that of a fish, dragging a gasp from the boy's lips. He pulls his hand away, forcing Harry's legs, bent at the knee, open. He positions his index finger at Harry's hole, the muscles fluttering in anticipation as he grazes his rim. 

"Wait, wait, wait," Harry says in a sudden panic. "Could-could you, like, kiss me or something?"

Louis pauses, his eyes darting to look at Harry with fond eyes. 

"'Course babe." Louis nods.

Harry blushes at the pet name, feeling like a teenage girl on her first date. Louis bends his head forward, gently brushing his lips against Harry's.

The younger boy lifts a hand to plant itself in Louis' hair, threading his fingers through the feathery locks as he pushes half his index finger past Harry's entrance. 

Harry squirms, the feeling awkward and unusual. 

"Okay?" Louis asks, worry flooding his blue irises. Harry nods. It feels abnormal but it doesn't hurt, not yet at least.

"I'm fine, keep going,"Harry reassures. Louis nods, slotting his lips to Harry's again as he pushes his finger in to the third knuckles. 

He lets it rest inside for a moment, allowing Harry to get used to feeling. He thrusts once, twice, making sure the younger boy is completely distracted by his lips before he pushes a second digit inside of him. Harry lets out a small gasp, a soft burn accompanying the small stretch of two fingers.

"Still okay?" Louis asks. If the older boy is getting impatient, he doesn't show it.

"Yes," Harry breathes, the air practically being dragged from his lungs as Louis slowly pumped the two digits in and out. 

He feels the real stretch when Louis adds a third finger, scissoring him open. Harrys gasps, a low whine bubbling up through his chest. 

"Hate to break it to you, baby, but it gets worse," Louis says to the writhing boy. 

Harry whimpers at Louis' words, dragging his lower lip into his mouth. 

"Still want to?" Louis asks, Harry's face twisting as he's stretched repeatedly. 

Harry nods his head once, biting down on his lip until the rustic taste of blood grazes his tongue. 

"Okay. M'not going to add any more fingers so just tell me when you're ready," Louis replies, thrusting his fingers in and out and stretching Harry as well as he could.

Harry's eyes are screwed shut, his breathing uneven and erratic. 

"Now. Do it now." Harry says opening his eyes to look into Louis'.

Louis gazes at the boy beneath him, removing his fingers from Harry and abruptly pushing his jeans to his ankles. He spits on his hand, tugging himself off to the spread the saliva. He hovers back over Harry momentarily with his palms flat at either side of the younger boy's head.

"Are you sure?" Louis asks, his eyes searching Harry's.

"Positive," Harry breathes. He's scared Louis will never talk to him again afterwards, but if there's anyone he wants to lose his virginity to, it's the boy hovering over him at this moment.

"Alright, we'll go slow, yeah?" Louis says, grasping the base of his cock and positioning the tip to Harry's hole.

"And it will probably hurt, but you'll get-" Louis continues before Harry cuts him off by abruptly pulling him down by the hair and hungrily licking into his mouth, tongues touching before they're lips do. It's hot, brief, and messy, nothing but teeth and tongue and warm breath.

"Do it now. Please," the younger boy murmurs after pulling Louis up so only their lips graze. 

"Okay," Louis mumbles against the boy's lips, guiding the head of his cock past Harry's fluttering rim. 

Harry gasps into Louis' mouth. The burn is worse this time, shocks traveling up his spine.

"Fuck," Harry hisses, hands scrambling for purchase in the older boy's hair. 

"If you want to stop, just say something," Louis murmurs, pulling back from the boy's lips to watch his face as he bottoms out.

Harry shakes his head, inhaling deep breaths though an open mouth.

"Move, please," he mutters after a moment, his hands gripping Louis' hair tightly. Louis bites his lip, rocking out barely an inch then thrusting back in, a moan ripping though his chest. A noise left Harry, too, but it's more out of pain than pleasure.

Louis notices the boy's discomfort and shifts forward, angling himself to find the boy's prostate and lessen his discomfort. He gives tiny, nudging thrusts in high hopes while Harry wriggles underneath him. Unsuccessful in reaching his goal, he pulls out to the point where his tip is the only thing left inside and slowly thrusts back in, watching Harry's face as he angled himself slightly once again. 

"Shit, ah, do that again," Harry gasps, the pain lessening by a fraction. Louis obliges, thrusting faster this time. Harry's eyes roll back and his lashes flutter, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he tugs harshly on Louis' hair.

"Fuck, yes," Harry moans, the older boy picking up a rhythm.

"Better now?" Louis breathes, little moans escaping his lips between his words as he feels Harry's tight heat clenching around him.

"Yes, oh god," Harry groans, rocking back on Louis' cock to the best of his limited ability. 

Harry's hands move to Louis' bare back, digging his fingernails into the flesh. Louis picks up his pace slightly, his eyes screwed shut.

"You're so tight, baby," he growls, thrusting in deep.

"Fuck, shit," Harry hisses, several other incoherent strings of curses leaving his mouth as Louis hit his prostate perfectly with each thrust.

Louis' pounding into the boy once he's sure he's comfortable, with fast harsh thrusts.

"M'not gonna last," Harry mumbles his fingernails scraping down Louis' back and leaving angry red marks in their wake. 

"Me either," Louis groans, leaning down to slot his lips between Harry's. Their tongues immediately tangle together, both boys exchanging saliva and hot breath. Harry keeps gasping and panting into the kiss, his curls sticking to his forehead in a thin film of sweat.

Louis thrusts in once more, the force of it combined with the perfect hit on Harry's prostate sending him over the edge without either of them having to touch his cock. His whole body shudders, his orgasm pulsing though him. Louis moans, Harry clenching around him, milking out his own orgasm. 

"Fuck," Harry moans, dragging out the vowels as his body slackened against the floor. 

Louis rides out his high, only stopping when his cock is completely soft and Harry looks about ready to pass out.

He pulls out, collapsing to the floor next to Harry. 

"Shit, that was perfect," he breathed. Harry nods, rolling onto his side to look up at Louis.

"Really?" Harry asks. He loved it and would not mind doing it again but he isn't sure how Louis feels about the whole situation.

"Yeah. You're pretty good for a freshman," Louis mumbles. "Not for a freshman, actually. You're damn good in general." 

Harry blushes, ducking his head down.

"Thanks, I guess," he mutters. 

"Anytime, Curly," Louis says, shooting the younger boy a wink.

The two of them lay in a comfortable silence, both of their breath still slightly harsh. 

"We should probably get dressed before someone comes looking for me," Louis sighs, sitting up and running a hand though his messy sex hair.

"Are you ever going to talk to me again?" Harry asks suddenly, standing and grabbing a rag from a shelf to wipe the white streaks of drying come from his stomach. 

Louis comes up behind Harry and wraps his arms around the boy's waist.

"Well, if I took you on a date tomorrow, would that count as talking to you?" Louis asks with a small smile, pressing his lips to Harry's sweaty neck.

Harry's mouth drops open, his throat going dry. 

"I-I just meant as friends, but, I mean, really?" he stutters, blushing furiously.

"7 o'clock, I'll pick you up and we can go for a late dinner and a show," Louis mutters, smirking into the boy's neck, loving the affect he had on the younger boy.

"Sure," Harry breathes, smiling shyly and staring at the ground.

"Perfect, who gives you a ride home?" Louis asks, turning Harry around to see his smile.

"I usually walk," he responds, his cheeks still insanely red.

"Not anymore, I'll drive you home," Louis responds, pecking each of the boy's flaming cheeks.

"O-okay," Harry mutters, suddenly embarrassed by his lack of clothing and hurriedly moving away to pull on his discarded jeans and t-shirt. Louis chuckles, grabbing his own clothes and tugging them on. 

"You should probably go back and, er, do your play thing before somebody assumes I killed you," Harry says, smiling slightly.

"I'll be back in here after rehearsal to get you, later babe," Louis says, pecking Harry on the lips quick before exiting the room.

Harry sighs, cautiously sitting down on a stool and wincing at the slight soreness in his bum. The reminder makes him blush more at the thought of what had happened just minutes before, what he has just given to Louis and what Louis has promised him for tomorrow. A smile sneaks onto his lips, and he buries his face into his hands, his grin growing significantly larger.

This has been the best day of his life and he doesn't even care that he didn't turn out as straight as society would like him to be. Besides, what straight boy works in the costume room anyway?


End file.
